The Summer Of Us
by The Little Black Heart
Summary: Struggling to deal with the death of her brother, Clary finds solace in her friends and comfort in the arms of the one person she swore to never get involved with again. AU and All Human.
1. Chapter 1

**Right, so this is my first ever fanfic and I'll be the first to admit that I am not the best writer but I think as far as first attempts go, it's not too shabby.**

The knock at my window frightens the hell out of me. I've used that window for years as an exit point, but nobody has ever used it as an entry point.

I get up from my computer and peer out, and there, crouching on the ledge, is Jace.

Jace Wayland.

Not just a name, but a state of mind I never want to revisit, although I do keep him at the back of my mind for those times I get my hopes raised about something. So then I can slap myself into reality and remind myself of what happens when you let someone into your sacred space.

He doesn't ask to be let in. He just stands up, expecting me to step aside. Technically this could be considered against the rules of my grounding, but I open the window.

He looks down at my singlet and underwear and stares for a long time like it's the most natural thing in the world. Then he climbs in and looks around the room without commenting.

I walk to my drawers and pull on a jumper, which barely covers my thighs.

'Hope you didn't do that on my account.'

I don't say anything and he casually leans against my desk, picking up the novel that's sitting there.

'It's bullshit,' he tells me, flicking through it. 'There's no such thing as Vampires.'

I shrug. 'It'd be good if there was, though. Why are you here?'

'Why else? It's been a year.'

I nod. 'It doesn't seem that long.'

'Has Simon been to see you yet?' he asks.

'No. I haven't seen anyone but you.'

'Please tell me you haven't been holed up in your room all day?'

'I've got nothing better to do. I'm grounded, remember?'

'Yeah, I know, but…'

'But, what? You think I'll get a reprieve just because it's been a year since my brother died. You know my mother, Jace. No crime goes unpunished.'

'I would hardly call ditching the last day of school a crime.'

'Yeah, well, you're not my mother.'

'Yeah, well, you shouldn't be alone…not today. I don't care what your mother says.'

He stands up from where he's leaning against my desk and it's like he hovers over me. I feel his fingers on my collarbone, faintly tracing the thin scars that run down the right of my neck.

It's all too awkward. A few days ago I had brought up one of the most taboo subjects of his life and he had me pinned against the wall and here we were pretending it never happened.

'I shouldn't have said what I said,' I say quietly. 'I don't know why I did.'

He shrugs. 'I didn't come here to ask or give forgiveness.'

And it's like a trigger word, making every pulse inside of me throb and every memory of the two of us come the fore of my mind.

'Forgive me,' I whisper, dizzy from the sensation.

He leans forward and our foreheads are almost touching and for a moment, a slight vulnerability appears on his face.

'Nothing to forgive,' he says.

I shake my head. 'No. That's what he said. "Forgive me". It's what Jonathan whispered in my ear before he shot himself.

Jace pulls away and takes my hand. 'Come on. I'm getting you of here.'

'Jace,' I protest. But it's no good. His grip on my hand is so tight, like he'll ever let go. A part of me wants him too, badly. But a bigger part - the part of irrational logic - refuses, and I concede.

He releases my hand just long enough for me put on a pair of shorts and run a brush through my hair. Then Jace takes my hand again and leads me out of the window and onto the ledge. He climbs down the tree first and waits for me.

I know this tree well. It was Jonathan who showed me which branches could hold my weight and which ones would buckle and break under the pressure. And like Jace, he was always waiting at the bottom to catch me if I fell.

**Not the longest chapter in the world but a chapter none the less. Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. Overwhelmed with the response to my story. Thanks so much. But I will admit I had help with this chapter, thank you Tess!**

It's peaceful like this, on my back. A warm sun caresses my face and wraps me in a blanket of fluffy clouds.

But then somewhere up-river, a speedboat or jet-ski causes a ripple effect and miniature waves slap water into my face and the shock of it almost makes me go under.

My body becomes a raft and there's this part of me that wants to literally go with the flow. To close my eyes and let it take me. But I know sooner or later I will have to get out; that I will have to go home - to a house that feels more and more empty every day.

For a moment I sense something flying menacingly low over me and I start with a fright, losing my balance and this time, I go under. But the sky is a never-ending blue, no birds, no clouds. Just a stillness that tells me that I am the only person in the world.

Until I see Jace on the side of the river.

I breaststroke over and attempt to get out with as much dignity as possible. One is always at a disadvantage when standing dripping wet in one's underwear, no matter how modest it is. He waits for me with arms outstretched, holding a blue and white striped towel. I walk to Jace and he drapes the towel around and over my shoulders. I thank him and pull it tight to my chest.

For a while we sit on the bank in silence. I watch a dragonfly flitter above the water, then hover on the spot before darting off towards the sky. That's when I see the sun beginning to disappear behind the row of trees in the distance. I make a move to stand up but Jace's hand on my arm prevents me from getting to my feet.

'What's the hurry?' he asks.

I turn my head to face him. 'I don't want to spend the rest of the summer grounded,' I tell him. 'Which is exactly what will happen if my mother comes home and finds that I am not there.'

I brush away his hand and walk to the river bank, dipping my toes in the shallows, stirring up the mud.

'How long are you going to keep doing this?'

'Doing what?'

'Anything and everything you can to get yourself grounded and keep yourself locked up at home.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Come off it, Clary. We all know what you're doing. You've been nothing but a hermit this last year. I wouldn't surprise me if you would be content to spend the rest of the summer grounded.'

I don't say anything. I take deep breaths, looking at the river stretched before me.

When I turn Jace is there and he cups my face in his hands and kisses me so deeply that I don't know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don't know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss him instantly.

'You shouldn't have done that,' I say.

He presses his cheek to mine and I feel his eyes close with the sweep of his lashes. And then his hands are at my waist and he's kissing me again. I drop the towel and fold my arms around his neck, pressing my body hard against his. Then there's a little voice pounding in the back of my mind telling me to stop. And I do.

Even as I pull away the sensation of him still lingers on my lips, and yes, I _have_ forgotten what that was like. To hunt them out, all these memories of Jace, the good ones, the beautiful ones that I find so hard to recall now; to be able to relive them all in the heat of their moment, over and over again, forever and-

No. Our past is a poisonous place, and I am not going to live in it any longer.

Jace's lips are on my neck now and I fight to push him away 'Stop, Jace? Please, stop.'

'Clary?' he pleads with me.

'I'm sorry, Jace. I can't.'

He steps back and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. 'I stole your heart once, Clary, and I've been fighting to keep it ever since. When will you let me in? When will you forgive me?'

'I don't know. I need…time to think. I need time alone.'

'Time alone? You've got be fucking kidding me, Clary. All you seem to do these days is spend time alone. When was the last time you spoke to Isabelle? She's going through some pretty tough stuff, too, and she misses you. You can't keep blocking out your friends.'

'I'm not blocking anyone out.' I'm yelling now and my face feels hot, probably shows, too. 'Isabelle hasn't exactly been knocking down my door to talk to me either, you know.'

'How would you know? You never answer the door. You never answer your phone.'

Jace picks up my clothes and hands them too me. 'You're not the only one who lost someone they love, Clary.' And then he turns and walks away, leaving me alone. Which is just what I wanted. Wasn't it?

I intentionally take the long way home. Not so my mother would catch me out, but because the shortest way took me past the cemetery, and I wasn't ready to go back there yet. I don't think I ever will be.

We fought that day, my brother and I. Malicious words were spoken and we had both screamed the words 'I hate you' at each other. We had never fought like that before because we never had a reason too. Until Jace Wayland moved in next door. I suspected, but had never brought up the thought that Jonathan might be gay. It didn't bother me whether Jonathan was gay, straight or purple, I loved my brother more than anything. Love, my brother.

I try to remember the fun we had growing up but every time I do my thoughts automatically turn to his funeral where the casket waits at the end of the aisle, mahogany and wreathed in flowers. The lid is closed up tight, of course, an open casket wasn't permitted. It's one thing to know he's dead, but to see it…

How did this happen? Was it possible to go back through the weeks, months, years even, to trace out some pattern, some evidence of a chain of events well beyond my ability to change or control?

My doctor says that feeling guilty and responsible was only par for the course and that, with time, those feelings would subside. Now, a year on, I have a new doctor and those feelings still burn through me like wild fire.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm dreaming. I know I'm dreaming because I'm in a tunnel and in reality I don't do tunnels. And down in the tunnel I smell something vile. I can't identify it, but it consumes my whole being and I start to choke, unable to breathe. But then a hand grabs me and pulls me out and I know it's my brother, but his mouth is rotting and his breath is foul. And I scream and scream, but nothing comes out.

I wake in a feverish sweat, the sultry afternoon sun dimming my room, fading to grey. Thoughts of my brother begin to consume my every moment and they sweep me into an overwhelming feeling of blackness and desperate need for Jace. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, my mother knocks on my door, when she sees the light coming from my room, but I ignore her. I just sit up and try hard to stay awake because sleeping isn't safe anymore.

I hear the garage door rumble and I know that my mother is home. Work kept her late tonight so there was no chance I would have been caught out of the house therefore I only have three days of house arrest remaining before my sentence is over and I am free to wander the world again.

A bell tone rings and I jerk in fright. The bells ring again. My phone, the screen flashing blue shadows onto the wall. After a few seconds it stops.

I sit up in bed and wipe sweaty strands of hair from my neck. I reach for my phone on the bedside table and see that the text message is from Jace. It's short and to the point. GET OUT OF BED! I do - but it has nothing to do with his message but more to do with the fact that my bladder will burst if I don't get to the toilet, fast.

I wash my hands and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. There is no denying I look like shit. The girl staring back at me looks gaunt, pale, her red hair frightful. I turn away, sick. I don't want to see myself.

I leave the bathroom and walk down to the kitchen. My mother is there leaning over the bench, flipping through the pages of a glossy gossip magazine, grocery bags still full sat on the bench beside her. I ignore them and open the fridge, the chill air cool on my skin. I grab the milk and drink straight from the carton, waiting for my mother to reprimand me for bad manners. But she doesn't, she doesn't even lift her head, clearly there is something more interesting in the magazine or she just doesn't care anymore. My money is on the latter. I slam the fridge door shut, bottles clanging inside and start to leave.

'Clarissa?'

I stop, dead, and turn. 'Yes.'

Still she keeps her head down. 'I'm going away for a few days, for work. I leave tomorrow. I'll leave some money for you. And because I don't think for a minute that you'll stay inside this house you're no longer grounded.'

'OK' was all I could think to say. This was the longest conversation I had with my mother in weeks that didn't result in a screaming match that could bring the house down. If you could even call it a conversation. More of a blank exchange of words. But I'll take it - I'm not in the mood for a fight. Not on this night.

I quickly shower to wash the thin layer of dirt off my body from the murky river water, dry myself off and then pull on a black tank dress that's been sitting in the bottom of the washing basket for god knows how long. But it looks and smells clean enough.

Walking back to my room, I stop outside Jonathan's bedroom door. I reach for the handle, but like every other time I never turn it to open. I place my palms on the smooth veneer and close my eyes to imagine him sitting at it his desk pouring over the latest issue of Playboy (which he never made any attempt to hide) or enigmatically playing the latest shoot-em-up game on his X-Box. But as always my thoughts are dragged to that day, one year ago, and to blood splattered walls and my brother crumpled on the floor, his brain blown to pulp.

Pain claws deep into my throat. I feel hot and sickness bloats in my stomach like rotten food. My stomach heaves and I cover my mouth and run to the toilet, making it just in time before the contents empty and swirl into the cream porcelain bowl. I stand on shaking legs. I want to take a scrubbing brush to my mind and scrape those thoughts away forever.

I'm perched on my window sill in flickering candlelight, nerves trembling. My bare toes clench the edge, cold despite the heat. The hot summer night soaks the air like blood. No breeze lifts the lace curtains. The moon set fat and swollen behind sparse grey clouds - not the kind that bring with them the threat of rain. My gaze averts to Jace's bedroom window. The light isn't on and it's too early for him to be in bed already. My heart thumps as I wonder where he is, what he's doing and who he's with. I'm anxious now. I start to sweat. It is utterly ridiculous for me to feel this way. I shouldn't feel this way. I was the one who broke up with him. I have no rights when it comes to Jace Wayland. But that can't stop my heart from racing. Had I made a mistake by not giving him another chance? Before I can torment myself with that thought, a shadow on the grass below catches my eye.

I shuffle to the edge a little further and see Alec Lightwood standing still on the curb out the front of my house. I don't think he's seen me so I remain still and watch him from above. For a while he just stands there, and I can't hear him but I can see his lips move as though he's talking and then he turns and sits down on the edge of the road, his knees at his chest and his head bowed between them. I climb back into my room and head downstairs, past my mother asleep on the couch and quietly open the front door and step out onto the grass.

I'm only a few feet away when Alec's head whips around and he sees me and jumps to his feet. He looks embarrassed, like he's not meant to be here and he jams his fists in his pockets, avoiding meeting my eyes with his.

'Um..Hi, Alec.' I say.

'Clary! I'm sorry. I…I shouldn't be here.' His voice catches in his throat and he starts to walk away.

'Wait, Alec. Don't go.' I plead, but his pace has already quickened and then he disappears around the corner and out of sight.

I hear feet crunching on gravel behind me and I whirl around. Jace is there, wearing his habitual black. I swallow and walk in his direction.

'Was that Alec Lightwood?' he asks.

'Yeah,' I say taking one last look behind me where Alec disappeared.

'Why was he here?'

'I don't know. He ran off before I could ask. Where have you been?'

'I went for a walk?'

'Oh.' I sigh, relieved. 'Alone?'

He laughs. 'Yeah, alone. Why?'

'No reason.'

'Did you think I was with someone? Jealous, are you?' he teases.

'What? Don't be ridiculous. Why would I be jealous?'

'Oh, I don't know. Maybe because the thought of me being with someone else makes your blood boil. Or, maybe it's because you still love me and you still want to be with me and you're just too scared to admit it to yourself.'

'Nope, that's not it.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'

Jace steps closer to me and gently brushes my hair behind my ear with the back of his hand. 'So, if I was to kiss you right now, you'd feel nothing for me?'

I nod, my legs feeling weak.

'Not even just a little,' He was so close now and I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes and shake my head.

He ducks in and kisses me, his hands sliding over my waist, my hips and I shiver. I started to speak, but he pulls away and presses a finger to my lips. 'Nuh-uh. Don't say a fucking word.'

My heart skips and he can't resist a smug smile and he creeps lower, tracing his lips along my collarbone. I slide tense hands into his hair, gripping tight. 'Jace, you really shouldn't-'

'Shut up.'

I couldn't fight. He could do whatever he wanted with me. I had always known it, ever since the very first day we met. Anything that had passed between us since then couldn't change that. I quivered and melted, and with my resistance dissolving, I surrender.

Headlights loom in the distance, growing brighter and brighter until they are upon us and Simon's dirty yellow VW van pulls up to the curb.

He rolls down the window and leans an elbow where the glass disappeared. 'Am I interrupting?'

'Yes,' Jace says, with his lips still on mine.

I brake free and Jace reluctantly lets go. 'Hi.'

'You two back together then?' Simon seems less than impressed.

'Yeah, we are.' Jace answers. I shrug and give a half smile.

'Right. So, I had planned to stage an elaborate kidnapping tonight and steal you away from your prison for a night of teenage fun and frivolity, but as it seems you have other plans.' Simon stares Jace down before he turns a brilliant smile to me.

'Maybe another night?' I say, returning the smile.

'Excellent. How does tomorrow night sound?'

'She's grounded, Lewis, remember?' Jace says.

'A minor detail.'

'Actually, I'm not.' Jace looks at me in surprise. 'Mom is going away for a few days and she lifted my grounding.'

'Perfect.' Simon is beaming. 'Sebastian Verlac is having one of his infamous parties and we've all been invited.'

'Oh, Simon. I'm not interested. Sorry.'

'Excellent. So I'll pick you up at eight.'

It's not a question and before I can protest he flashes that smile again and speeds off.

Jace must be able to see the anguish on my face and he takes my hands in his and squeezes them tight.

'I don't want to go.'

'It will be okay,' he promises. 'I'll be by your side the whole night.'

'Jace, you and Sebastian aren't exactly the best of friends. This just doesn't seem like a good idea.'

'Clary, chances are Sebastian will already be so wasted by the time we get there that he won't even notice me. Besides, you need this. Being with your friends again, it'll be good for you…especially now.'

'Do you think Izzy will be there?'

'I don't know, maybe. You should call her.'

'Yeah, I think I will.'

Then he brushes warm kisses on my forehead, breathless.

**So...It's official. I am a FanFiction addict. I've also become quite a 'review whore' so please feel free to indulge my insatiable desire for the little thrills. I'd also like to apologise to anyone waiting for Tessa Banks to update her stories. I've kidnapped her. Yep. She's locked in my garage. **


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning I walk to Isabelle's house. I was going to call her, but it seemed too impersonal. With hands shaking, I knock on the door and wait. The kid who answers the door looks at me nervously and I wonder why, until I remember how often I'd come here in the past year. Rarely. I hadn't seen Max for a long time. He doesn't move, still staring at me and thankfully Isabelle appears and places her hand Max's shoulder.

'Go back to the game,' she tells him. 'I'll be in soon.'

He wanders back down the hall, tracing his fingers along the wall in an innocent child-like manner. Isabelle closes the door behind her and we are alone on the porch.

We look at each other for a moment, and I feel awkward. We were best friends once - you couldn't shut us up - now I don't know what to say, and just by looking at Isabelle's body language, she has no idea either. She's doing that thing she does when she gets nervous - tapping her fingers to her thumb. Back and forth, over and over. I can't stand the silence so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

'Wanna blast bad eighties music really loudly and pretend we're rock stars?' Like we use to.

She raises her eyebrows and stares at me, and for a fleeting moment I think she's going to turn on her heel, go back inside and slam the door in my face.

But she doesn't. A tiny fragment of a smile plays on her lips. 'On one condition.'

'Yeah?'

She lets out a deep breath. 'This time I get to be Ann and you can be Nancy.'

I smile and laugh. 'I wouldn't have it any other way.' I'm fighting back tears when she wraps her arms around me, pulls me in tight and whispers in my ear. 'I've missed you.'

Now the tears really begin to flow. When she lets go, I see she has tears too. I take her face in my hands and wipe them away with my thumbs. 'I've missed you, too. I'm sorry I haven't been around lately.'

'Don't. I haven't exactly been there for you either.'

We both sit on the top step of the porch, drying our eyes and sniffing the tears away.

'I can't believe how much Max has grown,' I say. 'I didn't recognise him, at first.'

'Tell me about it. I caught him showing a little too much interest in a lingerie catalogue the other day.'

'Ooh, scandalous.'

'Oh, well. At least he wasn't looking at one Alec's magazines. I think two gays sons may just tip my mother over the edge.'

'Is she still not use to it?'

'This _is _my mother we're talking about, Clary. She may be all froth and bubbles on the outside, but inside? She'll never get use to the idea.'

'Speaking of Alec. I saw him last night. Outside my house.'

Isabelle's brow furrows. 'What was he doing outside your house?'

'I have no idea.' I lied. I have a sneaking suspicion. One that I will never share with Isabelle. 'Maybe he was just going for a walk?'

'Yeah, maybe.'

Isabelle reaches over and plucks a sprig of Lavender from the bushes that border the porch, and twirls it back and forth between her fingers. The heady scent fills the air and I stifle a sneeze. Allergic to Lavender, you see.

'Do you know, every night before I went to bed, there would always be a lavender flower settled on my pillow?'

I shake my head and look out into the street. Jonathan would always disappear at the same time every night. I never knew where he went. Now I do.

'For months I couldn't bring myself to enter or leave the house through the front door. The Lavender reminded me too much of him. I begged my mother to rip it out, but she wouldn't. Now I'm glad she didn't. As long as this Lavender grows, I know he'll still be with me. Is that silly?'

'No.' My breath catches in my throat and I cough. 'It's not silly.'

'I picked a whole bunch and took it down to his grave yesterday. All the while I was hoping I would see you there. I waited a while...'

'I didn't go.'

'At all?'

'No.'

'When was the last time you went?'

'Not since the funeral.' I know my mom visits at least twice a week. Each time she tells me she's going in the hope that I will go with her, but I can't. The pain is still too raw.

Isabelle takes my hand in hers. 'I'd like it if you would come with me sometime.'

I squeeze her hand back. 'Yeah. Maybe.'

It mightn't be so hard if she was with me. I'll think about it.

'Hey! What are you doing tonight?' I need a change of subject and this was one reasons I came here today.

She shrugs. 'Nothing much. Why?'

'Sebastian Verlac is having a party. Jace has convinced me to go and Simon didn't give me a choice, so do you wanna-'

'Wait. Jace convinced you to go? Are you two back together?'

'Kind of. Maybe.' Sigh. 'Yes.'

'And it is Sebastian Verlac's party?'

'Yeah.'

'Clary, you do realise that there is a ninety-nine percent chance that Aline will be there too?'

'I admit that thought has crossed my mind, more than once, yes.'

'And…you're okay with her and Jace sharing the same breathing space?'

'No. But despite what Jace did, having him back in my life feels…right. I have to trust that he won't make the same stupid mistake twice. Now, am I the one who is being silly?'

Isabelle laughs. 'Honestly, Clary. Jace loves you, any blind fool can see that. I don't think you have to worry about him. Aline, on the other hand-'

'I wouldn't trust her with my most worthless, useless possession.'

'You do know she orchestrated the whole incident? Jace was already three sheets to the wind when they slept together.'

'I know. Didn't stop it from hurting with the intensity of a thousand suns, though.'

'Should I put a leash on you tonight, just in case.'

'No. I've pictured punching Aline in the face so many times that it's just lost all meaning to me now. She dead to me. So does that mean you'll come?'

Isabelle get's to her feet and holds out her hand. I take it and she drags me up. 'I'll tell you what. I'll go with you tonight if you promise me one thing?'

'What?' I ask, warily.

'Come visit Jonathan with me tomorrow. You can't keep putting it off, Clary.'

I let go of her hand and hop down the steps.

'Clary? She calls after me.

I spin around. 'Fine. We'll pick you up just after eight.'

Isabelle nods and waves, looking rather pleased with herself.

When I get home the house is eerily quiet and still. I flick on the TV but find nothing that interests me, so I turn it off and head upstairs. I'm walking down the hallway when I notice Jonathan's door ajar. Mom left early this morning and I know for sure the door was closed when I left, too. I stop, still, and listen. No sound. Nothing.

My nerves flayed raw as I reach for the handle and push the door open.

Inside, the room is stark. Surgery white walls, and no carpet revealing bare floorboards. Everything that once belonged to my brother. Gone. Everything that was my brother. Gone.

To a stranger this was just a spare room that no one bothered to decorate. A blank canvas. I wonder if that's what they'll tell prospective buyers if mom ever decides to sell the house. They'll most likely leave out the fact that a young boy killed himself here. That wouldn't bode well for sales.

Glass breaking on tiles makes me jump. I spin around and cautiously walk towards the bathroom. Gently, I turn the door handle and let it open on it's own. My perfume is the first thing I smell. I tip-toe into the bathroom, avoiding broken glass, and see Alec perched like a bird on the bathroom vanity. He scares the shit out of me and I fall back and slam into the wall.

His eyes are wide and blinking uncontrollably, and his breath is heavy and fast. I take a step forward and hold out my hand. 'Alec? Are you okay?'

He squints his eyes shut and smashes closed fists into his temples. I take another step and then lunge for his arms to stop this madness. But he's too strong. He pushes me to the ground and then leaps over the top of me and out the door. I crash to the floor, using my hands in front of me to break the fall. Big mistake. I land in the broken glass. I wince in pain and immediately blood begins to seep out from under my palms on the musk-scented tiles. I hear the front door slam and know that Alec has gone.

I gingerly get to my knees and turn my palms over to survey the damage. My left hand is the worst. A two-inch shard of glass protrudes from the gash running diagonally down my palm, straight through my life line. Tiny scarlet beads dot my right hand. I remove the glass and drop it on the tiles. Blood pools in my left palm and vines its way down my wrist, curling around my forearm and drips onto the floor. Tears sting behind my eyelids, willing to break free. I rock back onto my bottom and drag my knees to my chest, folding my arms protectively around them, leaving my palms to face the ceiling. I squeeze my eyes and tears spill out and run down my cheeks. I hear feet thudding along the hallway and then Jace is standing in the doorway.

'Clary!' His feet skid on the wet tiles and then he's kneeling beside me, holding my hands in his. 'Was it Alec? Did he do this to you?' Jace scares me when he was angry. His eyes grow fierce and his teeth are bared in a snarl. 'I'll kill him.'

'Jace! Stop, please? This wasn't his fault. It was an accident.'

'But he was here? I saw him sprinting from your house.'

'It was nothing, really. Just leave it.'

'Clary, you're covered in blood. I'm not just going to leave it.'

'It's my fault, Jace. Alec startled me, that's all and I knocked over my perfume bottle. It was an accident,' I repeat.

Jace drags a towel from the rack and wraps my hands in it. 'Why was he here?'

'I don't know.' I yell.

'How did he get in?'

I shoot daggers at him. 'I came home. He was here. We scared each other. He ran. I accidentally knocked over my perfume. Slipped. Cut my hands. And here we are. End of story.'

I know Jace doesn't believe me but he has the smarts to keep his mouth shut. He lifts me up in strong arms, sits me on the vanity and beings work on my hands.

'It's deep, but I don't think it needs stitches,' he says about the gash. Carefully he wipes away the blood, places clean white gauze over the cut then wraps my hand in a bandage. My other hand needs nothing more than a quick run under the tap to clean off the blood and wash away any tiny remnants of glass, but he still uses the same care and attention as he did with the other. After, he places my hands softly in my lap, then rests his hands on either side of my neck. He leans in and kisses me softly. He bites my bottom lip and groans into my mouth. 'I'm staying with you, while your mom is away. No but's.'

I don't even try to argue.


End file.
